SHARK’S ISLAND
It was now half-past two in the afternoon. The foliage of the mangrove
was so dense that the rays of the sun, though almost vertical, could not
penetrate it. Thus Fritz and his companions ran no risk of being
detected in the aerial dwelling of Falconhurst, of the existence of
which the savages who had landed on the island had no idea.
Five men, half naked, with the black skins of natives of Western
Australia, armed with bows and arrows, were coming along the path. They
had no notion that they had been seen, or even that there were other
inhabitants of the Promised Land besides those of Rock Castle.
But what had become of M. Zermatt and the others? Had they been able to
make their escape? Had they fallen in unequal combat?
Of course, as John Block remarked, it could not be supposed that the
number of aborigines who had landed on the island was limited to these
few men. Had they been so inferior numerically, they could not have got
the better of M. Zermatt and his two sons and Mr. Wolston, even if they
had made a surprise attack. It must have been a large band that had
invaded New Switzerland, whither they must have come in a fleet of
canoes. The fleet was doubtless lying at the present moment in the
creek, with the boat and the pinnace. It could not be seen from the top
of Falconhurst because the view in that direction was cut off by the
point of Deliverance Bay.
And where were the Zermatts and the Wolstons? What inference must be
drawn from the fact that they had not been encountered at Falconhurst or
thereabouts?
That they were prisoners at Rock Castle, that they had had neither time
nor opportunity to seek refuge in the other farms—or that they had been
massacred?
Everything else was explained now—the havoc wrought at Falconhurst, and
the deserted condition in which the Promised Land was found between the
Swan Lake canal and the shore.
How could they cherish any but the faintest hope? So, while Captain
Gould and the boatswain kept the natives in view, the others sorrowed
together.
There was one last chance. Could the two families have taken refuge in
the westward, in some part of the island beyond Pearl Bay? If they had
caught sight of the canoes in the distance, across Deliverance Bay,
might they not have had time to make their escape in the waggon, taking
provisions and arms?
Captain Gould and John Block continued to watch the approaching savages.
Was it their intention to come into the yard? The house had been visited
and pillaged by them already. Now they might discover the door at the
foot of the staircase. In that event, however, they could easily be
disposed of. For when they stepped out on to the platform they could be
surprised, one by one, and hurled over the balustrade, a drop of forty
or fifty feet.
“And,” as the boatswain remarked, “if after a tumble like that they had
legs enough left to get to Rock Castle, the beasts would be more like
cats than the monkeys they resemble!”
But when they reached the end of the avenue, the five men stopped. The
watchers did not miss a single movement they made. What was their
business at Falconhurst? If the aerial dwelling had escaped their
observation so far, were they not now on the point of discovering it,
and the people inside it? And then, they would come back in larger
numbers, and how was the attack of a hundred natives to be withstood?
They came to the palisade and walked all round it. Three of them entered
the yard, and went into one of the out-houses on the left, coming out
again presently with fishing tackle.
“The rascals are a bit too familiar!” the boatswain murmured. “They
don’t only not ask your leave——”
“Can they have a canoe on the beach, and are they going to fish along
the shore?” said Captain Gould.
“We’ll soon find out, Skipper,” John Block replied.
The three men returned to their companions. Then they went down a little
path bordered with a stout thorn hedge, which ran along the right of the
Falconhurst river and passed on to the sea.
They were in sight until they reached the cutting through which the
river flowed to its outlet into Flamingo Bay.
But as soon as they turned to the left, they became invisible, and would
only be seen again if they put out to sea. It was probable there was a
boat upon the beach—probable, too, that they generally used it for
fishing near Falconhurst.
While Captain Gould and John Block remained on the watch, Jenny
controlled her grief and asked Fritz:
“What ought we to do, dear?”
Fritz looked at his wife, not knowing what to answer.
“We are going to decide what we ought to do,” Captain Gould declared.
“But to begin with, it is idle to remain on this balcony, where we are
in danger of being discovered.”
When they were all together in the room, while Bob, who was tired by his
long march, slept in a little closet next to it, Fritz answered his
wife’s question:
“No, Jenny dear—all hope is not lost of finding our people. It is
possible that they were not taken by surprise. Father and Mr. Wolston
are sure to have seen the canoes in the distance. They may have had time
to take refuge in one of the farms, or even in the heart of the woods at
Pearl Bay, where these savages would not have ventured. We saw no trace
of them when we left the hermitage at Eberfurt, after we crossed the
canal. My opinion is that they have not moved away from the coast.”
“That is my opinion, too,” said Captain Gould, “and I believe that M.
Zermatt and Mr. Wolston have got away with their families.”
“Yes, I am sure of it!” said Jenny positively. “Dolly, dear—Susan—don’t
lose heart! Don’t cry any more! We shall see them all again!”
The young woman spoke so stoutly that she brought back hope to them.
Fritz shook her hand.
“It is God who speaks through your lips, Jenny dear!” he said.
On consideration, indeed, as Captain Gould insisted, it was hardly to be
supposed that Rock Castle could have been surprised by attacking
natives, for they could not have brought their canoes by night to land
which they did not know. It must have been by daylight that they
arrived, and some of the islanders must surely have seen them far enough
off to have had time to take refuge in some other part of the island.
“And then again,” Fritz added, “if these natives landed only recently,
our people may not have been at Rock Castle at all. This is the season
when we usually visit all the farms. Although we did not meet them at
the hermitage at Eberfurt last night, they may be at Wood Grange, or
Prospect Hill, or at Sugar-cane Grove, in the midst of those thick
woods.”
“Let us go to Sugar-cane Grove first,” Frank suggested.
“We can do that,” John Block assented; “but not before night.”
“Yes, now, at once, at once!” Frank insisted, declining to listen to
argument. “I can go alone. About twelve miles there, and twelve miles
back; I shall be back in four hours, and we shall know what we are
about.”
“No, Frank, no!” said Fritz. “I do beg you not to leave us. It would be
most foolish. If need be, I order you not to, and I am your elder
brother.”
“Would you stop me, Fritz?”
“I would deter you from doing anything so rash.”
“Frank, Frank!” said Dolly entreatingly. “Do please listen to your
brother! Frank! I beseech you!”
But Frank was set on his plan.
“Very well!” said the boatswain, who thought it his duty to interfere.
“Since a search is to be made, let us make it without waiting until
night. But why should we not all go together to Sugar-cane Grove?”
“Then come along!” said Frank.
“But,” the boatswain went on, addressing Fritz, “is it really Sugar-cane
Grove that we ought to make for?”
“Where else?” Fritz asked.
“Rock Castle!” John Block answered.
The name, thus unexpectedly dropped into the discussion, altered the
whole course of it.
Rock Castle? After all, if M. Zermatt and Mr. Wolston and their wives
and children had fallen into the hands of the natives, and if their
lives had been spared, it was there that they would be, for the smoke
proved that Rock Castle was occupied.
“Go to Rock Castle, eh?” Captain Gould replied. “All right; but go there
all together.”
“All together? No,” said Fritz; “only two or three of us, and after
dark.”
“After dark?” Frank began again, more set than ever upon his idea. “I am
going to Rock Castle now.”
“And how do you expect in broad daylight to escape the savages who are
prowling round about it?” Fritz replied. “And if you do escape them, how
will you get into Rock Castle, if they are there at the time?”
“I don’t know, Fritz. But I shall find out if our people are there, and
when I have found out I will come back!”
“My dear Frank,” Captain Gould said, “I quite understand your
impatience, and I sympathise with it. But do give way to us in this
matter; it is only common prudence that makes us think as we do. If the
savages get you, the hunt will be up; they will come to look for us, and
there won’t be any more safety for us, either at Wood Grange or anywhere
else.”
At last they succeeded in making Frank listen to reason. He had to bow
to the authority of one who already perhaps was the head of the family.
So it was decided that they should wait, and that as soon as darkness
permitted Frank and the boatswain should leave Falconhurst. It was
better that two should make this reconnaissance, fraught with many
dangers. They would glide along the quickset hedge that bordered the
avenue, and both would try to get to Jackal River. If the drawbridge
were withdrawn to the other bank, they would swim across the river and
attempt to get into the court-yard of Rock Castle through the orchard.
It would be easy to see through one of the windows if the families were
shut up inside. If they were not, Frank and John Block would come back
at once to Falconhurst, and they would all try to get to Sugar-cane
Grove before daylight.
Never did the hours drag by more slowly! Never had Captain Gould and his
companions been more profoundly dejected—not even when the boat was cast
adrift upon an unknown sea, not even when it was smashed upon the rocks
in Turtle Bay, not even when the shipwrecked company, with three women
and a child amongst them, saw themselves threatened by winter on a
desert coast, shut in a prison whence they could not escape!
In the midst of all those trials they had, at least, been free from
anxiety on account of those in New Switzerland! Whereas, now, they had
found the island in the power of a horde of natives, and did not know
what had become of their relatives and friends; but had good ground for
fearing that they might all have perished in a massacre!
Slowly the day wore on. Every now and then one or other of them,
generally Fritz and the boatswain, climbed up among the branches of the
mangrove in order to search the country and the sea. What they were most
anxious to ascertain was whether the savages were still in the
neighbourhood of Falconhurst, or had gone back to Rock Castle.
But they could see nothing, except, towards the south, near the mouth of
Jackal River, the little column of smoke rising above the rocks.
Up to four o’clock in the afternoon nothing happened to change the
situation. A meal was prepared from the stores in the house.
When Frank and John Block came back they might all have to set out for
Sugar-cane Grove, and that would be a long march.
Suddenly a report was heard.
“What is that?” Jenny exclaimed, and Fritz drew her back as she was
hastening to one of the windows.
“Could it have been a gun?” Frank asked.
“It was a gun!” the boatswain exclaimed.
“But who fired it?” Fritz said.
“A ship off the island, do you think?” James suggested.
“The _Unicorn_, perhaps!” Jenny cried.
“Then she must be very near the island,” John Block remarked, “for that
report was close at hand.”
“Come to the balcony, come to the balcony!” Frank cried excitedly.
“Let us be careful not to be seen, for the savages must be on the
alert,” Captain Gould cautioned them.
All eyes were turned towards the sea.
No ship was to be seen, although, judging from the nearness of the
report, it must have been off Whale Island. All that the boatswain could
see was a single canoe, manned by two men, which was trying to get in
from the open sea to the beach at Falconhurst.
“Can they be Ernest and Jack?” Jenny whispered.
“No,” Fritz answered, “those two men are natives, and the canoe is a
pirogue.”
“But why are they running away like that?” Frank asked. “Can there be
someone after them?”
Fritz uttered a cry—a cry of joy and surprise combined.
He had just seen a bright flash in the middle of a white smoke, and
almost simultaneously there was a second report which made the echoes
ring round the coast.
At the same time a ball, skimming the surface of the bay, threw up a
great jet of water a couple of fathoms away from the canoe, which
continued to fly at full speed towards Falconhurst.
“There! There!” shouted Fritz. “Father and Mr. Wolston and all of them
are there—on Shark’s Island!”
It was, indeed, from that island that the first report had come, as well
as the second with the ball aimed at the pirogue. No doubt the islanders
had found refuge under the protection of the battery which the savages
did not venture to approach. Above it was the red and white flag of New
Switzerland, while on the topmost peak in all the island floated the
British flag!
Impossible to depict the joy, the delirium to which those so lately in
despair now abandoned themselves! And their emotions were shared by
those true comrades, Captain Gould and the boatswain.
There was no further idea of going to Rock Castle; they would leave
Falconhurst only to go—how, they did not know—to Shark’s Island. If only
it had been possible to communicate with it by signals from the top of
the mangrove, to wave a flag to which the flag on the battery might
reply! But that might have been unwise, unwise too, to fire a few shots
with the pistol, for, though these might be heard by M. Zermatt, they
might also be heard by the savages, if they were still prowling about
Falconhurst.
It was most important that they should not know of the presence of
Captain Gould and his party, for these could not have withstood a
combined attack by all the savages now in possession of Rock Castle.
“Our position is a good one now,” Fritz remarked; “don’t let us do
anything to compromise it.”
“Quite so,” Captain Gould replied. “Since we have not been discovered,
don’t let us run any risk of it. Let us wait until night before we do
anything.”
“How will it be possible to get to Shark’s Island?” Jenny asked.
“By swimming,” Fritz declared. “Yes; I can swim there all right. And
since father must have fled there in the long boat, I will bring back
the long boat to take you all over.”
“Fritz,—dear!” Jenny could not refrain from protesting. “Swim across
that arm of the sea?”
“Mere sport for me, dear wife, mere sport!” the intrepid fellow
answered.
“Perhaps the niggers’ canoe is still upon the beach,” John Block
suggested.
Evening drew on, and a little after seven o’clock it was dark, for night
follows day with hardly any interval of twilight in these latitudes.
About eight o’clock the time had come, and it was arranged that Fritz
and Frank and the boatswain should go down into the yard. They were to
satisfy themselves that the natives were not hanging about anywhere
near, and then were to venture down to the shore. In any case, Captain
Gould, James Wolston, Jenny, Dolly and Susan were to wait at the foot of
the tree for a signal to join them.
So the three crept down the staircase. They had not dared to light a
lantern lest its light should betray them.
There was no one in the house below, nor in the out-houses. What had to
be found out now was whether the men who had come during the day had
gone back to Rock Castle, or if they were on the beach for which the
canoe had made.
Caution was still necessary. Fritz and John Block decided to go down to
the shore by themselves, while Frank remained on guard near the entrance
to the yard, ready to run in if any danger threatened Falconhurst.
The two men went out of the palisade and crossed the clearing. Then they
slid from tree to tree for a couple of hundred yards, listening, and
peering, until they reached the narrow cutting between the last rocks,
against which the waves broke.
The beach was deserted, and so was the sea as far as the cape, the
outlines of which could just be seen in the eastward. There were no
lights either in the direction of Rock Castle, or on the surface of
Deliverance Bay. A single mass of rock loomed up a couple of miles out
at sea.
It was Shark’s Island.
“Come on,” said Fritz.
“Ay, ay,” John Block replied.
They went down to the sandy shore, whence the tide was receding.
They would have shouted for joy if they had dared. A canoe was there,
lying on its side.
It was the pirogue which the battery had greeted with a couple of shots
from its guns.
“A lucky thing that they missed it!” John Block exclaimed. “If they
hadn’t, it would be at the bottom now. If it was Mr. Jack or Mr. Ernest
who was such a bad shot, we will offer him our congratulations!”
This little boat, of native construction and worked by paddles, could
only hold five or six people. Captain Gould and his party numbered
eight, and a child, to be rowed to Shark’s Island. True, the distance
was only a bare two miles.
“Well, we will pack in somehow,” John Block said; “we mustn’t have to
make two trips.”
“Besides,” Fritz added, “in another hour the flood tide will make itself
felt, and as it sets towards Deliverance Bay, not very far from Shark’s
Island, it will not be a very big job for us to get there.”
“Everything is for the best,” the boatswain replied, “and that is
beginning to become evident.”
There was no question of pushing the boat down to the sea; it would take
the water of its own accord, directly the flood tide overtook it. John
Block satisfied himself that it was firmly moored and was in no danger
of drifting out to sea.
Then both went up the beach again into the avenue, and rejoined Frank,
who was waiting for them in the court-yard.
Informed of what they had found, he was overjoyed. Fritz left him with
the boatswain to keep watch over the entrances to the yard.
The news he brought made joy upstairs.
About half-past nine all went down to the foot of the mangrove tree.
Frank and John Block had seen nothing suspicious. Silence reigned round
Falconhurst. The slightest sound could have been heard, for there was
not a breath of air.
With Fritz and Frank and Captain Gould in front, they crossed the
court-yard and the clearing, and filing under cover of the trees in the
avenue they reached the beach.
It was as deserted as it had been two hours before.
The flood tide had already lifted the boat, which was floating at the
end of its rope. Nothing now remained but to get into it, unmoor it, and
push off into the current.
Jenny, Dolly, Susan, and the child immediately took their places in the
stern. The others crouched between the seats, and Fritz and Frank took
the paddles.
It was just ten o’clock, and, as there was no moon, they hoped they
might get across unseen.
In spite of the great darkness, they would have no difficulty in making
straight for the island.
The moment the pirogue was caught by the current it was carried towards
it.
All kept silence. Not a word was exchanged, even under breath. Every
heart was gripped by excitement.
The flood tide could not be relied upon to take them straight to Shark’s
Island. About a mile from the shore it bore away towards the mouth of
Jackal River, to run up Deliverance Bay.
So Fritz and Frank paddled vigorously towards the dark mass of rock,
where no sound or light could be detected.
But someone would certainly be on guard within the battery. Was there
not a danger of the canoe being seen and shot at, under the
misapprehension that the savages were making an attempt to get
possession of the island under cover of the night?
Actually, the boat was not more than five or six cables’ length away
when a light flashed out at the spot where the guns stood under their
shed.
Was it the flash from a gun? Was the air about to be rent by an
explosion?
And then, caring no longer whether the savages heard him or not, the
boatswain stood up and shouted in stentorian tones:
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”
“Friends—we are friends!” shouted Captain Gould.
And Fritz and Frank together called again and yet again:
“It’s we! It’s we! It’s we!”
The instant they touched the rocks they fell into the arms of their
friends.